Mercy Mild
by toadstoolcouch
Summary: Doom's hero, Flynn Taggart, takes pity on a humanlike imp, only to later sorely regret it. Warning: Violence, cussing.
1. The Hell?

Title: Mercy Mild

Author: Misty Waters toadstoolcouchATyahooDOTcoDOTuk

Fandom: Doom PC game

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Doom belongs to the awesome Id Software company and while I do own an evil mind, I don't own this evil game. Sigh.

Summary: Flynn Taggart, the game's hero, makes the almost deadly mistake of helping an imp in danger.

It was noisy outside, worse inside. He'd just as soon drive a spike through his ears to kill the noise. But he had to stay; his girlfriend would be there soon.

As he slammed his second vodka, he overheard some people by him in heated conversation.

"Mercy is overrated," said one.

"You know what, it's all we got at the end of the day," said another.

"It's like the only truly human quality we can give the world," another still.

The eavesdropper butted in with a clarity rare for a typical vodka buster. "True, maybe, but it should never be exercised blindly. It can get you killed."

The other stared at him, but then invited him to explain. So he cleared his throat, took another harsh shot, and began.

I'm sure you've heard of what happened on Phobos. The UAC Catastrophe, as some call it. Ya, I'm That Guy. I don't have the time, or desire, to narrate everything that happened, but I can share on day's worth of horror.

This day was after many. Well into the waking nightmare, I thought was getting the hang of it, getting real savvy to the twisted game that my life had suddenly become.

I learned that day that, ironically, I still had much to learn.

I had gotten to the point where the stackers in my belt were enough to replace sleep, especially now that safe places were getting harder and harder to find. I'm sorry, but I really can NOT sleep with one eye open.

Wire yet tired, I trudged along, having successfully (obviously) cleared a run down ex-school yard of monsters. The remains of a human city lay behind me and a range of mountains before me. I crept towards the gaping hold at the base with trepidation, feeling the usual sickly dread that pauses my heart and falters my steps. I didn't even want to imagine what would leap at me from the infernal darkness I had to enter.

Well, I knew I had no choice, so I exhaled deeply, as to expel the fear from my battered body, and rushed in, my shotgun, double barreled and blood tinted, up at eye level.

Nothing. Not to the left, the right, or ahead. I relaxed and went on. I wanted dearly to keep that gun of mind at the level of my eyes, but the strain of its weight against my arms would just be counterproductive. Sometimes I had to forgo comforting cautions for the sake of mission effectiveness. I guess I learned that in the Marines.

I passed by many empty and dark tunnels at my sides before realizing I wasn't even breathing. So I stopped and forced myself to relax, and not think about how only ten minutes ago, I was surrounded by drooling, growling demons.

Just when I suspected I'd be granted easy passage, some force knocked me down. Scrambling for my gun, that was by now five feet away from me, I looked up and straight into a pair of red, burning eyes. An imp! The initial shock allowed the monster enough upper hand to land a scratch across my face. I could see the blood spurt from the wake of its razor claws.

As if a switch was turned on in my brain, I snapped into action. Pain usually does that to me. With the imp's sinewy arm coiled back for another devastating swipe, I ripped my chainsaw off my belt, turned it on, and arced it out, in one fluid motion. The creature's head and a large part of its chest was now at my feet, the rest of its body still standing.

I shook off the disgust that never lessens with each kill and retrieved my beloved shotgun. As I walked away, I froze to the sound of a loud, wet stomp behind me. When I turned, I saw that the decapitated body had finally fallen. I almost laughed as I sped down the tunnel ahead of me.

"Bull shit!"

The story teller merely smirked and pointed at a few rows of otherwise barely discernable scars on his left cheek.

His listeners paused before criticizing more, "OK, well, even if we are to believe that, what does any of this have to do with what we were talking about?"

Our hero took another shot and said, "I'm getting to that."

I think that I may actually fear a long, quiet passageway more than a room full of monsters. In the former, I have plenty of time to deeply consider my situation, and taste my fear for all its flavor. In the latter, my actions and thoughts are automatic, preplanned, instant. Adrenaline is my brain, red my vision, excitement my only emotion. In battle I am the marine I have been trained all these years to be: unstoppable.

On the flip side, I never was any good with civilian conditions, like terror and worry.

Well, I was about to be relieved from my silent torture. At the end of the tunnel I could hear the commotion of battling monsters. My trained ear could pick out the distinct voices of the imp, the revenant, and the zombie.

With my heart singing as it jack hammered in my armored chest, I secured my chainsaw and anything loose on my belt, tightened my helmet, and made ready my shotgun. A quick gulp of air (could have been my last) and I was ready to frag some baddies.

My first target was the one closest to me. They were arranged in a circle around something I at first couldn't see. This surprised me mildly as I tore through their numbers with shells.

After splattering the head of a human like monster, I fell to the ground to avoid an incoming fire blast from a pissed imp. From my prone position I was able to pick off a total of three momentarily confused zombies (they're pretty stupid), and then I leaped back to my feet.

So far I was safe from the Revenant, that tall, horrible skeleton bastard. He was behind other monsters and trying to get a clear shot at me. The more monsters I killed, the more I helped him. Shit.

So I dashed back the way I came for cover. Minimal, but it was something. I used it to decimate the lesser monsters, so I could be better ready for the Revenant. Then I popped out real quick and shot at it. I missed. The rocket it sent my way blasted so close near my cover, the arms I raised in defense were burned from the splash damage. I grunted with pain as I realized this current method would not work.

So I cast my shot gun down and pulled out my rocket launcher. I had to make sure I had a clear shot, or I'd blow my own ass up. The Revenant was waiting for me. I jumped out and sent out a rocket, almost before I was clear of my cover, and then threw myself across the clearing to dodge his missile. My rocket knocked loose one of his legs, but he didn't fall. He just got even madder.

Before I could get back up, he was punching at me. Past experience had taught me that just one blow could shatter bone, so right then my main purpose in life was to dodge his fists. I gripped the stone ground with my hands and swept my legs under his remaining one, sending him clattering on his face, and then I stomped a heavy boot to the base of his neck. His head was snapped off in no time.

I just stood there for a second, catching my breath and wiping my sweat, before going back for my shotgun. I had almost left the clearing when I heard a pitiful whimpering. Steeling myself, I turned, my knuckles white from their tight grip on my gun. I was staring at an imp, on the ground where the monsters were, holding a badly hurt leg. His eyes looked human, and overall didn't seem a threat to me. But I wouldn't let a pretty face lead me to death that easily.

I crept towards him, my shotgun raised, and was about to shoot him when his eyes widened and he opened his fang filled mouth to say, "Wait!"

Shit, I just about dropped my gun with shock.

End of part 1. So what do you think so far?


	2. Ah Hell

NOTE: Chapter has changed a bit, and is longer

I could barely form thoughts, but managed to grunt, "You…you can speak!"

The imp, a dark skinned monster adorned with blood tipped horns jutting from various places on his body, stood up. This action made my finger flit to the trigger instinctively. The imp panicked, making me reconsider. So I put the gun down (as much as I wanted to just kill him and not have to worry about him at all). He relaxes a lot, even as far as to close his eyes and exhale loudly.

"Come on with me. You'll die out here alone," I said to him. Looking extremely grateful (I guess), he followed me to a corner of the room, where I spared some of my precious med kit to tend to the wounds on his leg. Another imp had no doubt dragged its claws along this one's flesh. From the inside, it looked. I watched him, fascinated, as he took the bandages from me and dressed the wound himself. I was wondering where in Hell he had learned that.

"You have a name?" I grunted, still not believing I was being sociable to the same type of creature I'd have nightmares about whenever I got to sleep.

He seemed to think for a moment and then said, "I'm not sure, but for some reason I remember being called Errol."

/Great/ I thought. /My old fucking buddy's name. So now whenever I call this monster's supposed name out, I'll have the pleasure of remembering the day my teammate disapeared, probably to some fucked up death. Or maybe I could just like, not talk to him at all./

Though Errol had light blue irises instead of the usual red, they were still orbed in large, wild, staring eyes. Even his voice, which sounded like someone I would have gone to Boot with, rumbled slightly with demonic undercurrents. I could tell he was really trying to not seem as horrible as he was. I guess it was my "mercy" that allowed him that chance.  
"I know I would have," the pretty girl said.

"Me too," said the ugly guy.

The drinking guy just smiled and said, "Of course you would. You've never been to Hell"  
(----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------)

I made him walk in front of me so I could watch him. Even to this day I can't have anything unknown behind me. I'll sit with my back against a corner if at all possible.

I figured Errol would be good to have on my side, since he could viciously fight the creatures after me, and that if he turned on me, I could frag him as easily as I could any other imp. After all, they were only really a threat when they snuck up behind you or something.

A portal. This was gonna suck. The portals I came across much more often than I'd like usually didn't take a person too far from where he started. But the real worry was that wherever you materialized could be infested with monsters. Essentially, these red, square platforms decorated with friendly pentagrams were passive traps.

Hooking my left arm around one of Errol's and whipping out my gattling gun, I jumped on the portal. For the smallest moment, were loose particles in space, then in a big room lit by red lights.

A growl, a thud of fleshy feet on metal, and a smell of Hell itself.

I turned painfully to match the glare of a big, fat, sweating fucker with burning eyes. Immediately I slammed Errol and myself down as the fire that burns hotter than any on Earth singed the air above us. The tips of my hair were scorched, and for a second the air was unbreathable.

I was really glad to have brought my gattling gun, because at that point, with no prospect of cover near enough (besides, I was way too pumped to see anything but the threat), the only way to survive this encounter was to blast the shit out of the target, pumping him with lead so fast, he wouldn't have time to fight back. Usually, that works. At least as long as I maintained a clean shot.

Errol, scared probably, knocked me over, breaking my vital shot. The mancubus then had the chance to whip out his guns with incongruous speed and barreled at me a flood of fire.

The flame bursts a typical mancubus releases are made of some parts Earth fire, many more parts Hell fire. One jet can tear a hole through a wall of thick concrete, boil a lake of ice, or, of course, reduce anything organic to what you'd find in an ash tray.

Screaming various things, I threw myself out of the path of an incoming blast. Though Errol and I had made it to the other end of the room, I felt my exposed skin begin to blister from the heat.

"Dammit, Errol!"

Gotta hand it to him, he knows when to turn on his demon charm.

I scrambled for my shotgun when my last gattling gun bullet disappeared in my enemy's fat rolls, while Errol charged at him from the other side. Bits of high calorie meat splattered bloodily in my general direction from Errol's claws, and mini geysers of blood sprayed my body room my shotgun.

The monster was too distracted with pain to attack, and his death followed soon. A stench a bit like the inside of a morgue filled the room as his body collapsed and his guns clattered. As I gazed at my accomplishment, I heard Errol walk beside me and chuckle. I turned, a faint look of horror forming on my face and that chuckle turned into a honest to god cackle. Hellish. But familiar. 

Errol, when he could breathe, said to the body, "Heads up, nuthead!"

I stopped breathing after that sharp gasp. "What did you say?" I grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking roughly. 

Errol pulled away, looking almost guilty. "What? I didn't say anything." 

"Yes, yes you did. Say it again." I stepped closer to him as he tried to back away. 

"I, I just said something to the monster, I don't remem..."

"Say it again, asshole!" I screamed in his face, spittle flying. 

Errol stared at me, and for that moment, I could not tell at all what he was thinking. It was like he was not human like at all, but just another demon, about to die. "I said, heads up nuthead," he whispered mechanically. 

I nodded, my gaze severe. I was still too close for his comfort. "That's what I thought you said." And then I began for the exit to the room, ready to move on. He trotted after me. 

"What did I say? Did...did I upset you?" As I walked faster, he eerily caught up. "Talk to me, dammit!"

Still moving, I said, "Look forget it, ok? Come on. We have a lot of ground to cover."

So we walked. Out of the room. Down another dark hallway. Into a massive building where I hoped dearly a keycard would be hiding. 

Or more realistically, death. 


	3. Frikin Hell

Ch. 3-Frickin Hell

The rain outside was letting up, but it was still cold. Flynn could feel it every time someone opened the door. He had paused to take another sip, the eyes of his listeners enraptured upon him. He had to admit he liked the attention. Respect, maybe. 

"My brain was doing backflips at what the demon had said. It was not the first time I had heard that." Flynn gently stroked the rim of the shot glass with his forefinger. He felt his throat clinch. "Errol used to say that whenever he killed. He'd say that exact damn thing, every time. It was like, his trademark." He lifted two fingers to the bartender. "Heads up, nuthead."

The ugly guy piped in, "Errol? You're not talking about the monster, are you?"

Flynn looked at him in the eyes, his grip on his glass now concrete. He looked away as he continued, "I met him during a 2 week training school." Flynn laughed softly in remembrance. "There we were, running around in fake armor, waving plastic paint ball guns at each other in the blistering heat, with ex SEALs and marshalls and bounty hunters and shit like that for teachers. Errol loved it. He was merciless on the 'badguys.' Anyone who had him as a partner won the exercise. And he said the same thing every time he got someone. Pretty soon everyone else started copying him. It was like a running joke for us." 

The bartender gave Flynn another drink, but stayed near enough to listen. 

"We went to Mars together, ready to kick some ass. When things got out of control, he was gone. Last I saw him, he was cussing and swearing to kill every demon his damn self. And then he was…gone." He took a sip and winced at the strength. "We didn't even have time to look for him. By then, well I had a job to do."

(----------------------------)

All thoughts of the connection between my old buddy and this monster were replaced by the apprehension of facing the building. It was newly made on the outside, unlike most of the old human structures the demons usually dishonored. So this place must have been made by and for the demons. 

Fucking great. 

Holding my shotgun tight and nudging Errol to attention, I opened the door. I wished I didn't. it was a room made of flesh. I just stood there, hand over my nose and mouth, gaping. Walls lined with muscles glued into long, flat strips, oozing blood. The floor firm from the intricate grid of bones with dark red flesh holding them together. The hides of many, many people stretched to cover the ceiling. The skin glowed from the lights installed behind it. 

"O God, the smell!" Errol hissed behind me. I was used by then to the smell of blood and raw meat strewn all over the place. But monsters don't smell like people. 

"I thought you'd love it," I said, walking to a metal table. There was a form on it…

Errol grabbed my shoulder and pulled me to face him. "What the Hell do you mean by that?" he snarled. 

I gave him a confused look and tried to shrug out of his grip. I couldn't. "Well, come on, man. You're a demon, for Christ's sakes. I mean, you eat this shit!" I gestured at the mess with my free arm. 

He slapped me. And not any sissy slap or even a pissed-girlfriend slap. This one almost broke my neck. I tumbled to the floor, my metal attachments making hollow clatterings. 

"O Jesus!" I hissed when I could. His claws had dug deep into my cheek and the pain set my face on fire. For a moment I couldn't even breathe. I clambored back to my feet, raising my hands in defense when he reached his fist behind his head. "Sorry! Shit! What's your problem?"

"Don't you DARE compare me with those…ass wipes! I know I've changed, Flynn. I…I don't know how, but I know I didn't turn into no godamn…damn demon!" He gradually lost his fury and shrunk with a sort of misery. 

He called me Flynn. Man, that was more of a shocker than the slap. Things were starting to make sense in my mind, and I did not like it. My blood pumped a little harder as I grabbed him by the arm and took him to the table. I had to shove the body off it and use my sleeve to wipe it clean of blood. 

"Look. Look at yourself!" I said, shoving his face near the metal surface. 

His pretty mug stared back at him, and I felt his neck muscles tense under my hand. "No. No." 

"'Fraid so, Joe," I said quietly, still holding him. With my free hand, I supported my face. This was not what I needed, to babysit a monster with a serious identity crisis. "Come on, Errol. You've stared long enough." I let go, and he leaned on the table, staring out. 

"It's happened. It has finally happened." He looked all zoned out. Talking to himself, it seemed. 

I leaned down and put a hand on his shoulder. "What's happened, Errol?"

He looked at me, and his human like eyes were misty. "We're losing. Every human left is either dead or, changing. Pretty soon, there'll be no one left."

"No, no, dude. Look, a human can't just turn into an imp. I've seen old buddies and sergeants turn into zombies or corpses, but nothing else. It's not possible."

"So then what about me? Are you saying I have always been…" he pointed savagely at the metal. "This?" His thick fists dug into my collar. "I have memories, Flynn! A name, a past, I am a human!"

I pushed him away. "Then why do you look like this?"

He just stared at me, chest heaving. 

A door far off slammed. I pumped my shotgun and slammed myself against the wall, trying not to retch at the squishy sound of my back hitting soft flesh and blood. I pulled Errol next to me and demanded his silence. Another door opened, and into our macabre laboratory entered two tough zombies, one dragging a body behind them. We watched them flop it onto the same table another body had been on, and I was able to recognize it. 

I knew her! She was the girl loved to show Errol up in training. She, the chick went back to the barracks with hardly a speck on her, while Errol went back bathed in blue paint. The only guy in the class she would torture so badly. 

She moaned as she awoke and then screamed at the faces she saw. One held her arms down while the other dragged a buzz saw across one of her thighs. I gritted my teeth as I struggled to load my gun quietly, with the girl's wet, burbling screeches in the background. I felt Errol about to jump. 

"No!" I snarled under my breath. "We're not ready, they'll kill us!"

"Ah, fuck you!" he said and he jumped at the zombies. 

His claws ripped the face off one before it could even react and sliced open the throat of the other. The faceless zombie dug at Errol's face, and Errol bit the guy's fingers off. He jumped in the air when the other zombie aimed his pistol at him, and as Errol began to land, he spun. His spinning toe claws popped one zombie's eyes, and a fist landed into the already decimated face of the other. Once they were down, Errol was able to rip them to pieces. 

This all happened in a few seconds while I stood, hunched against the wall. Then I had to watch, sick, as Errol tried to awaken a dead girl soaked in her own blood. Finally I was able to pull him away. But not before a few scratches at my armor, of course. 

"Come on, we gotta find that key card, and get the Hell out of this place," I said as soothingly as I could. 

In a dead voice, he said, "Just to go somewhere just as terrible."

I bit down hard. "Eventually we're going to get to the bottom of this, and the asshole in charge is going to get a real ass kicking." 

"You'll die long before you ever get that far," Errol chuckled, with no humor in his gravelly voice. 

The spiral staircase thankfully was not as organic as the room we left. We huffed and puffed our way up there and I found a nice alcove for us to sit in. While he muttered to himself, I dug out an MRE for us to share. With 3,000 calories in the whole package of GI tasties, I figured we'd be satisfied sharing. I admit now that I deliberately hid the skittles for myself, though. 

"Come on, eat this. Just like old times," I tried to joke, handing him a thick pound cake. 

After I felt comfortable that he was relaxed, if not depressed, I asked my burning question. "How did you know my name, Errol?"

Munching, he looked at me and frowned slightly. Then he looked down, and frowned harder. As if he remembered how he looked. "I'm remembering, Flynn. Who you are. How we got here in the first place. Margarette." Here he stopped, voice trembling. 

I leaned closer. "Good, good. And how about how you got to look like this?"

"I'm not sure, but it's starting to come to me now. I don't know, because this seems more like a dream than a memory, but…" he trailed off, staring at his claws, smothered in blood as they were. 

I shook his shoulder. "Tell me. Anything you remember, dream or not." 

He shivered. "I'll try." 


	4. The Gate

Ch. 4-The Gate

I'll tell you what I can. So much has come to me in the past few hours, and being with you has really brought the memories flooding back. It's just that I feel so strange about them, like they're not memories, but fragments of nightmares. 

But I'll tell you them anyway. 

Me and Margarette transferred to Mars shortly after you were deported there, but I didn't want to approach you too soon. You needed your space after what happened on Earth. So I waited. We were no more than security guards for UAC, and at that time didn't even know what they were really doing. We knew they were big on the latest technological projects, but me, a lowly marine on guard duty, could never be in on their secret projects. 

The gateways. 

Before we could secretly learn more about them, they exploded with life--from Hell. The teleportation gates had connected Phobos and Deimos, and now they were connected with doom. Ette, me, and my platoon were teleported with the UAC crew to do what we could, which was basically nothing but die. 

I saw you, with your team. You in your biohazard outifit, by then almost in shreds, with a precious few humans. I remember taking my platoon to team up with you. How our reunion was cut short by duty. Hell, you almost killed me when you saw me loping to you from the dark. Thought I was a zombie. 

I remember us making camp near the gateway with guards posted to watch it. Do you remember how many monsters came though that night? And how many marines they took back to Hell with them? How none of us actually slept, as we waited for the next scream to be our own?

I was thinking about Margarette when I left. Worried that some demon would get her. I guess I was being really crazy, but we were sitting ducks! I actually thought I could get the jerk in charge myself. If I would die, it would be for her. 

So, giving Ette a kiss that almost woke her up, I took my gear and myself through the gateway. 

Turned out it was just a minor portal that took me on the other side of the moon. Not Hell. I recognized the place as a compound of apartments that were being built as an attempt to colonize the moon. It was like a ghost town: a school, a playground, houses, pools, all of it. No people. No wind. No sounds. The artificial atmosphere made the place seem like an ant farm. 

I had no idea where I was going, so I just walked straight. When I crept through the open door of the closest apartment, I jumped to see someone sitting on the couch. At first I thought she was dead. But when I came near, she jerked her face to me and snarled. Half her hair was gone and she was covered with shiny blood. In her half eaten hand was a pistol, and it was pointed at my face. 

I threw myself down as the shot rang above me, and leaped on her. The gun skittered away but still she tried to kill me, this time with her fingernails and teeth. The butt of my rifle silenced her. Forever. 

Not soon after that attack came more. The rest of the family. 2 kids, and the dad. I knew I was crying as I shot them. At least they left bullets and shells. 

I stumbled out of there and spent the rest of the day doing more of the same: killing to avoid being killed. It was fun pretending in school, but it wasn't this time. But whenever I hesitated to kill a zombie cornered before me, I just imagined that creature coming after Ette. And I'd blow his brains out. 

Yep. Ette died many, many times in my head that day. 

My day ended when I was too fatigued to continue. So I holed up in a closet of an apartment I had cleared. Even fear couldn't keep my exhausted body awake that night. 

When I woke up, I heard scratching at the door, and snuffling. The smell of rotting flesh and bad breath. O God, I was so fucking scared, Flynn. There was a monster out there, waiting for me to come out! I cursed myself for deciding to sleep in a closet, and then worried that those thoughts would be my last. 

So I imagined waking up in Ette's arms late on a Saturday morning as I kicked the door open, shotgun ready. 

The monster didn't stand a chance. He was eating pellets and I was still wailing on him. When I finally got a grip, I felt better. Ready to get on with my mission. 

I was shocked to see the corpse I left behind. Like a tall human, thick brown skin. Only his skin was covered with evil little spikes, or horns. Black tongue lolling out, red eyes staring up at me. 

I shivered with apprehension, not wanting to imagine what else I'd meet from Hell. 

But this guy brought friends. They were waiting for me in the playground outside the apartment. The scattered remains of humans littered the sand. I screamed as I blasted at the monsters. One direct shot to the head would take one out, but I have never been the best shot. Especially when it counted. 

I ran out of shells and there were still 3 demons gunning for me. A blast of fire from one of them scorched my chest armor off and reddened the skin beneath. Another blast heated my pistol I grabbed from my holster so bad I had to toss it. 

I was weaponless. 

So I ran, shedding heavy and useless items from my belt and what was left of my vest as I pounded through the complex. It seemed like there was no end to it, and every time I passed a door, I thought another monster would pop out of it. 

One of the demons cornered me, and it seemed to grin as it leaned close to my face. Snuffing. I felt myself filled with rage as I cracked his jaw with my fist. My torrent of blows killed him and left me free to get out of that alcove and keep running. 

My legs literal gave out after hours of sprinting, and I fell on my face. I crunched the dirt in my hands, moaning, out of pain and fear. It's over, I kept saying to myself, and even thinking about Ette couldn't pacify me. 

Then I heard a hiss, like when you put cold water on a hot stove, only much louder. And it was behind me. I got up and faced the demon, though I didn't expect to live. I saw something next to him, so I launched myself at it, sliding right past the monster, who just stood there, taken aback. I picked up the shard of glass I saw glinting at me and slashed at the demon with it. I didn't hit him, but I was able to back him off a bit. 

Then when he lunged at me, I lunged at him. My shard snaked between his legs, slicing up his inner thigh. He yelped, but only got madder. Blood spurted from the wound and I was so close I could smell it. 

Gotta admit I was surprised to see it was like human blood. Even after all those other killings, this was the first time I noticed that. 

As we locked ourselves in this combat, something else decided to watch. I saw him from the corner of my eye, and I whimpered with fear. I couldn't even deal with the hideous creature staring at me, with this brown guy trying to kill me! 

From what I could see without really looking, the other monster was human like, well I that human had lost the hair and skin of its face and it had gone through a year long fast. And if it could conjure balls of flame at my feet. I jerked out of the way, still feeling the brutal heat, and the brown jumped too. Nice to know he got safe. 

The demon was going to try again, and if I didn't get out of there fast, he would succeed. I sprinted, no where in particular, letting my terror push me harder than I ever could without it. When I felt my hips buckling I at last saw something I could run to: a portal. 

Too bad the monsters were also sprinters. Before I could get to the relative safety of the portal, the brown guy scratched at my face. I grabbed him by the shoulder and rammed the shard through his chest, while he ripped open my throat. 

And that, Flynn, is where the nightmare ends. 


	5. With the Lord's Help

Ch. 5-With the Lord's Help

"So you couldn't tell you had died?"

Errol gaped at me, his eyes watery. "I died? No…"

"Ya. From what you told me, I figure you were up against both an imp and an arch-vile. Imp is what you are now. The flame thrower is the arch-vile." I kept my tone low, conversational. I gave him some more of the steaming, gray entrée. "An arch-vile has the power to raise the dead. You and the imp had killed each other, and had started to fall onto the portal. The arch-vile, always there for his Hell buddies, resurrected the imp just as he hit the portal. His life giving beam isn't accurate to a dime, so you were both saved. And because you were in a mortal embrace, you were melded together." I took a bite from the graham crackers. "Monster and man, in the same body."

Errol shook his head slowly. "God no. This can't be happening to me." He looked to me, imploring me, but I couldn't be his savior. Not right then, at least.

"Come on," I said, standing up. "Sitting here feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help you."

"What's the point?" he said, still sitting. "Ette's dead. I'm a demon. You'll be dead within the day."

I grinned. "Fuck that! I haven't been dragging my sorry ass around this place for this long just to die today. I got a home to go back to." I held my hand out for him, and he took it. "And so do you."

"I guess I could help you stay alive for a few more hours," he said and we both chuckled carefully.

I was concerned about finding the keycard to get us hopefully out of this part of Phobos. The more portals I survived, the closer I'd get to Hell, where I could set this mess straight, before it got to Earth. And many times the portals would be locked behind doors the military had originally constructed for security. The keys to every door would be found by a curious demon, and then thrown somewhere.

There were still some areas I had yet to search. A few miles past the man made structures we walked, and thankfully, with no playmates.

"How long do you think this would take?" asked Errol. "If, of course, we live long enough."

"Dunno, Errol. The moon's pretty big. We could end up teleporting to every damn inch before we leave." I grinned at him, enjoying his squirming face. "Then again, our next trip could be to the Devil's living room." I punched him in the shoulder, though not so hard as to puncture my fist with his spikes.

He grunted, but it was still a laugh. Kinda. Good enough for me. "At least I won't be alone this time."

We walked in silence for a while; I wanted to leave Errol alone with his thoughts. I know they are important to me. When we ran into trouble, he was there to help me, slashing, tearing, biting. He grew especially proud when he figured out how to shoot fire balls at monsters. I was grateful for the help. I could have died without it. We fought so many times that day, it's unreal. I know I must sound pretty casual when I talk about. Like it was nothing at all.

Well it sure as Hell wasn't.

Our friendship really was doomed from the start. I knew that. I guess I kept him around in case I was wrong. I am rarely wrong when it comes to danger, though. And, I spared his life because I could not bring myself to kill an innocent. That particular character flaw is what got me kicked out of Earth. I won't get into it now (loooong story), but suffice to say I was ordered once to kill civilians. I didn't. And I was punished. Bad dog. Of course now, being the hero of Earth, I don't have such living restrictions hanging over my head. But I'm still mad. It's the principle of the thing, dammit.

Anyway, it didn't take long for the man to give way to the imp. I first noticed that when we found the keycard.

I could see it sitting neatly on a stone platform, with a pavement walkway, very thin, reaching to it. On either side bubbled hot green chemical waste. This was all enclosed in a room behind an unlocked door. I dug in my backpack for the remainders of an old chemical hazard suit and strapped the shreds to the soles of my boots. With what I had left over, I covered the soles of Errol's feet, and we went for the key.

I hesitated before grabbing it. It was never this easy. So I kept my plasma gun ready (I was running low on bullets for the gattling gun) and grabbed the key. It glowed warm in my hand as doors flew open all around me.

Screams, snarls, the rapport of many a shotgun!

Errol freaked but I stayed calm, spraying the intruders with my gun, watching with a feeling of satisfaction deep in my gut the instant death I caused. Pistol bullets scratched across my clothes, one sank into my thigh. I howled, but didn't stop shooting. Blood from my forehead filled into my eyes, and I soon had to rely on my ears to locate the targets. For the first minute, as I got used to the loss of sight, I suffered. I got shotgun pellets in my forearm, fire blasts into my chest armor.

When the fight was over, I wiped the blood from my eyes, panting. Errol walked up to me. When he got closer, I saw he was snarling.

"Errol? What's wrong, buddy?" I stood up quickly. "Errol!"

He jumped at me, his eyes flashing red and blue alternatively, as if the colors were fighting for dominance. I couldn't dodge in time; he was on top of me, scratching, hissing. The force of his punch sent me falling into the pit of waste. The pain of the slime melting my armor into my skin blinded me, but I could still find the strip of pavement. But as soon as I embraced it, it sank into the pit.

Errol stayed where he was, howling at me, like a dog. The sludge was up to my knees, and a fire blast from behind pitched me forward, face down in the pool. As I desperately tried to shield my head with hands, I felt another hand pull my head up. "Son of a…" I began.

His act saved my face, even though at that moment he was not trying to help me. His rage was the only thing he knew, even with the flesh of his shins bubbling.

I ran. Wading, dragging myself through that thick fluid is not really running, but my eyes still felt like they were going to explode from the effort. I got to the other edge quicker than he; by the time he reached the middle of the pool, I guess he finally realized where he was. He screamed an started fumbling, like he was drowning.

Ignoring everything my brain was screaming at me, I screamed at Errol. "Get over here! Stand up! Just walk, take it easy!" I waved him over until he got to the edge, where I plunged my arms down and lifted him out. I tossed him a few feet away from me and fell to my hands and knees, where I panted, drool and slime slurping down my face. I could hear the monster shuffling to my side. My fists clenching, I turned.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "That wasn't me. It was him."

(-------------------------------------------------------)

"And still you didn't kill him? Wow!"

Flynn leaned back against the bar, feeling the booze but not succumbing to it. He had a glass of wine waiting for him to savor when he was ready. Tonight was not the night to get drunk. But perhaps just a bit calmer than usual.

However, it was his birthday in Australia. /I should visit my old platoon at the Martian Acclimatization Center./ He took another drink for that honor.

"I couldn't. I could still see the human in the monster. I wanted him to survive this. Get some medical help when we got back."

The girl smiled in a way that would have excited Flynn, if circumstances were different. She said, "You are such a noble man."


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

The bartender only smiled.

Flynn raised an eyebrow at the girl. "Noble? Is that what you call it." He shook his head, taking a nut from the little plate. He rolled it around between his finger and thumb. "That's the problem with society: mislabeling weakness as kindness."

The girl seemed amused. "And you think kindness is a weakness."

Flynn squished the nut till it broke. "One I'll never overcome."

(--------------------------------------------------------------)

We needed supplies. At first I was afraid to peel the synthetic blend from my skin. The exposed areas, patches where the armor had melted completely, and my face where the slime had splashed, was skinless, steaming, and oozing of blood and pus. Where the armor still held, the skin was stained green, and rubbing a finger on it was like pulling cellophane off a soft block of cheese. Smelled worse, though.

At least my feet were ok. Red and sore, a few burn blisters, but I could walk.

Errol's dark skin was darker, and at first I thought that was the only problem. Well, then I got a closer look. the bits of chemical suit material had melted into the soles of his feet, making them crusty, dark fluids seeping from ragged wounds. The rest of his body looked the same, but darker, easer to miss if you weren't inspecting.

"I only have enough for one right now," I said, taking out the remains of a medkit. "I'm going to use it on myself, so that I can find more, for you."

Errol didn't seem mad at that decision, which relieved me. But he did look a bit defeated. "So you're going to leave me here, while you find it?"

"No, man. You could get killed by yourself, especially in your condition. You'll just walk with me, alright? But I have to get healed first, so I can take care of you."

I almost passed by a small room with a doorway but no door. Inside sat a large medkit, some shells, and a double barreled shotgun. Despite my pain, I just had to stand and gape. How beautiful. And I almost rushed in, but remembered bitterly that the demons are smarter than they look. It looked too much like a trap.

"Fuck it," I said to myself and I grabbed Errol and raced in. He helped me snag the stuff and speed back out. I collapsed, sweating bullets as I stared back in the room. Nothing happened. Maybe it wasn't a trap, I considered, opening the kit.

I was just finishing up with Errol when the lights went out. Sensing his fear, I put a hand on Errol's knee and said, "Alright, no big deal. Let's just get up slowly…"

He was quiet, sniffing, as I led him a way I thought was safe. Truth was, I was just as clueless as he was. Too dark to see even each other, I had to rely on my guts to get us back into the light. Switches were hard to come by, as well.

He saw it before I did. "Hey! Over there! The Hell is that?"

I tensed. I had certainly seen it before. A pentagram, and a big one. As it glowed red, the ceiling above it had a sort of reverse shadow, shining a pure white that excited me.

And some blue orbs were sitting around it. "Yes!" I said. "O God I could really some of that juice right now! Using the light from the pentagram, I tended to my wounds. I worked fast. I was so excited to toss back the contents of one of those vials. Even at full health, they always made me feel so much better. Less vulnerable to pain. I had some synthetic skin left to apply to Errol's feet.

My body aching but my spirit invigorated, we crept along a wall towards the pentagram. I could see no monsters so far. A part of me felt sick at that. "This is another trap, isn't it?" Errol said behind me.

"Probably. But those vials are worth it. Trust me," I replied, really trying to convince myself. Well, also, since we haven't found another portal in a long time, it was a process of elimination now. We had to search everywhere for a way out, even if we ha to go into dangerous places.


End file.
